Bloodline
by Renart
Summary: Slowly building AU from Stolen Earth. Gwen and Ianto uncover a secret that concerns them both. Something will change now. alien!origins. X-over with Chronicles of Amber, no need to know what that is to understand what's going on .
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Slowly building AU from Stolen Earth. Gwen and Ianto alone in the Hub uncover a little secret that sends them on a journey that's going to change they lives. No need to know what Amber is to understand what's going on. But I tell you what – it is the best fantasy novels I have ever read. Other characters: Jack (Torchwood), Flora and Luke/Rinaldo with pinch of Corwin (Amber). As for Amber timeline takes places few years past Hall of Mirrors.

Disclaimer: nothing is mine

A/n: Do you know what happens when you are telling yourself "no-way in hell"? You end up doing it. I like forbid myself to write Torchwood/Chronicles of Amber crossover. And guess what? Well... Anyway! I NEED BETA. Anyone?

A/N: I moved it from x-over section because I was unimpressed with quantity of what could be found on Book of Amber section here on ffnet.

**Bloodline**

I sat with my eyes closed and willed for something, anything to happen. But apart from ever-present humming of mainframe, our computer that is, and Gwen off-key version of "In the Mood" - nothing. And where did she find harmonica? How could it cross anybody's mind that playing Glen Miller on harmonica was a good idea? I guess it was one of these great mysteries of the universe. I couldn't prove it of course, but I strongly suspected that it was Jack's fault. I took a mental note to shoot the bastard when he will come back. Of course that could be alien harmonica she found in archives, but at this point I sincerely didn't care anymore about charters, regulations and rules. I signed, stretched and slowly made my way to the kitchen area.

"What do you want for breakfast, ma'am?" I shouted half across the Hub.

"Terrine of Foie Gras with a Honey. Pineapple Carpaccio with Mascarpone Cheese and a Lime Sorbet. Glass of Möet Chandon."

"Beans that is than."

I yawned and set myself to making our modest meal.

Ten minutes later we both were dubiously starring at my chef d'oeuvre.

Gwen uncertainly probed it with a fork.

"And that's how legends fall."

I raised my eyebrows.

"…?"

"I though you could cook."

"Why?" I asked with mild interest.

She shrugged.

"Well… you can make coffee."

"Aha. I'm afraid my first work was in Starbacks, not Bellinis."

"No!" she sound nearly horrified.

I snorted.

The water dripped somewhere behind us with steady tap. Drip-drip-drip.

Scratch killing Jack, after we got out of that fix, I was going to hire horde of ugliest plumbers in the world and than make Jack retcon them all.

"Blimey!" she said sitting up strait.

"Forget to switch off the iron?" I asked politely.

She hit me in the forearm.

"Remember that theory Owen fussed about?"

"Which one? The one where bears are aliens from another dimension or one about origin of weevils?"

"No. The one where one of us just had to be Jack illegitimate child."

I cleared my throat.

"That's possible," I agreed, "from statistical point of view. He was living in Cardiff for the last century and a half and got around, but do you think it's wise?"

"Why?"

"If I related to Jack I sincerely do not want to know. If you are related to Jack than you would have to abandon that sweet fantasy about alien pollen and team orgy you told me about last week."

"Mm-hm," she said obviously not convinced. "I'll give you retcon if what."

"Gwen!"

"No, listen! That's brilliant idea."

The trouble with Gwen was that she was bloody convincing. She could probably persuade Weevils to dance Hoffedd ap Hywel if only she knew they language and got such idea on the first place.

"I'm not convinced."

Of course I was more then curios myself, and sure as hell I wasn't going to admit it.

"Ianto!"

I shook my head.

She glared at me.

I glared back.

I lost.

"OK. You win," I said in half-hearted defeat. "Do you want to use outdated information as well?"

"Huh?"

"For the dead," I clarified.

She froze with mug half way to her lips.

"No need to rake up the past," she decided eventually.

I was glad she did.

"Come on then."

I got up and waved her to follow after me.

Five minutes later we set in autopsy bay, sophisticated pices of alien equipment in front of us. It worked. We settled in a chair and starred at the slowly rising scale. Gwen was nearly sitting on my lap. You see, we grew on each other lately. Enough for me to know the colour of her lingerie and for her to master the art of tying my tie. I asked myself not for the first time when it ceased to be something I would have been worried about. The answer was - of course – somewhere in the mist of last three months. You see our workplace got invaded by overgrown pepper pot, which incidentally triggered a timelock created by our late friend. Brilliant woman Tosh was, but after 90 days in each other company me and Gwen were ready to convert into Hinduism if only it would get us out of here.

"What is it doing?" whispered Gwen.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I'm creating atmosphere."

"Right. Program is comparing out genetic material," I whispered back. "I included three way analyses so I wouldn't have to create two separate entries. Plus you and I could be cousins seven times removed. Would be nice to check it out while we are at this."

"Right. Why is it so slow?"

"Torchwood spoiled you, Gwen Cooper."

"I know. Did you find that alien iPod by the way?"

"Nope."

"Pity."

I used the time to appreciate beauty of chipping tiles and watery stains. And to think we only redecorated last year.

With loud beep a window flashed in the middle of the monitor. _Program completed. Show the relevant results_? _Y/N?_

"Yes," breathed out Gwen and short battle for mouse happened between us. I decided to be a gentleman and Gwen won.

The results scrolled before us.

"Holy shit!" she said.

What I was looking at was impossible…

"Well, I certainly didn't expect this," I said numbly.

Gwen bit her lips glaring at the monitor.

"I do not understand."

I refrained myself from banal remark. Or maybe it was just shock settling in.

"So you are like my brother," I heard.

I felt dizziness step away. Few taps after I shook my head.

"No. More like..," I skimmed through pages of our DNA test. One got to love alien tech. For once she was much more accurate then anything earth could offer so far. "If I'm reading that right…"

"Ianto?"

"I'm your Uncle. Through the male line."

"Bloody hell!"

And for once there was no disagreement between us.

And after that?

Well -

Five minutes later timelock blew up, the Doctor was ordering us around and Jack laughed on background. Typical Jack. The worst timing ever. At least we didn't start on that bottle of rum. Would look bad on our saviours-of-the-Earth résumés.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The man who was sitting in front of me wore a half-smile on his movie-star face and got a lot of flaws. For once he got more years behind his shoulders than I dared to imagine or should be comfortable with given the nature of our relationships. Hell I didn't even know his real name, just an alias that got too cosy, just like his outdated for half a century choice of clothes. And I put up with all that and more; even - you can - say learned to appreciate his numerous faults, because there were benefits and they pretty much outweighed any reasonable doubts I came up with on the course of last few years.

There were many things in our shared past. Some bad, some good, some outright ugly or downright impossible. We got it all. I remembered that I promised to kill him once and so did he.

Part of me wondered why not one of us yet followed it through. Another part of me wanted nothing more than press a kiss to his lips and round it into something more.

Maybe I loved him, maybe he loved me back.

Jack gaze fall behind me and my ears caught the sound of heels running up the stair.

Smell of fresh-baked doughnuts and coffee.

"Ianto, I need you," said Gwen from the doorway in tone that didn't permit any objections.

Jack in mocking defeat raised his hands.

"Now?" I asked as I got up from where I had perched on the edge of Jack's desk and turned towards her. I believe there was more than a hint of displeasure in my voice.

She crossed her arms on her chest and suppressed a knowing smile. She looked smug and beautiful and she damn knew it.

I still couldn't believe that I got a niece that wasn't six years old menace after pocket money. The fact that it was Gwen – scared me. I was torn between wonder and terror. And under circumstances no one could blame.

"I'm sure Jack will be able to finish for himself whatever you were doing."

I straitened my tie and shifted my gaze back to Jack.

"Right. Later than."

"Rain check."

"Jack, we were going over our budget."

He looked perplexed.

"Really?" he asked. Than, "Oh."

Sometimes I wondered what I was still doing in Torchwood.

With Jack, I mean.

Well maybe it was both the answer and the question on itself. Serpent biting its own tail and everything.

"What's the matter?" I asked moving to the door.

"We are going to Llandaff. I'll explain on the way."

"Oh joy! We are going into park."

"Don't make this face, Ianto."

"You are five steps before me down the stairs, Gwen."

"So?"

We made our way out of the Hub and to SUV. I got into the driving seat and started the engine. Gwen set on the front seat.

I remembered cheeky spy movies and it brought home not the best of memories about some poor executed judgment and pretty woman. Since that Saturday that lasted three months we shared a secret that non of us was eager to let Jack in. Dangerous thing secrets in our line of work. Alluring too. You keep so many that it starts to feel almost like stamps collecting when you are ten years old boy. One more or one less, but defiantly greedy for one more.

It was our riddle, my and Gwen, to solve.

And any teenager dream that his parents are really nor his in reality was turning out to be a real pain in the ass. Both my parents were dead and the only thing we were able to confirm was that my righteous mum cheated on her husband. Don't think they keep lock of hair in case of comparative DNA analyses, but that's better that exhumation, right? So it was pretty much dead end from my side of things. Gwen got better luck. Mrs Cooper of course made a scene. Never wanted her daughter to find out. I could certainly retaliate. But in the end she gave us the name Carl Corey. We checked him out and found nothing. Three decades ago he got a normal life in States: job, friends, bank account, parking tickets and house. And then one day he just disappeared.

"Look. I'm younger than you, right? Seven year or so?" I asked watching Cardiff moving by. I felt uncertain.

"Sound about right," she agreed. "By the way, did Torchwood recruited you from the school bench?"

I choose to ignore that question.

"It just strikes me as odd."

"Aha! You noticed too!"

"Hard too miss. How old was my daddy dearest if he got forty something year old son by the time he and mum met in some Cardiff bar?"

"Clean living?"

"You think so?"

"Oh, I defiantly don't think so."

"What did you find?"

"Remember how we thought Carl Corey disappeared two months after his return to States? Well, he didn't. At least not completely. Seven years later he reappeared again. Ordered a bunch of ammo and left once again, until roughly half year later on November 27 he was mugged in his own house in San-Francisco. Then he disappeared."

"Don't see how it's improvement. Just another dead end."

"Nope. Because twenty years ago Merle Corey showed up."

"Another relative?"

"Yep. My handsome older brother. See this?"

I glanced quickly to her outstretched arm holding PDA. On the screen there was a photo of a man bearing striking resemblance to Carl Corey or Gwen for that matter. I returned eyes to the road.

"So where is he now?"

Gwen sighed.

"Well, he finished Berkeley, worked for a few years on Grand Design, an american firm that specialized in computers and…"

"He disappeared too," I guessed.

"Poof! Nothing."

"I see a theme here."

She chuckled.

"But he didn't do it alone. His advocate, Bill Roth disappeared from the face of the Earth in roughly the same time. And his family too."

"FBI? CIA? Witness protection program?"

"No. Carl got some links, but nothing serious."

"But it's not the end?"

"Not by a long shot. Apparently, you got a sister too. Evelyn Flaumel. Nothing in official records, but Doctor Roth practice indicated it."

"Right. So what happened to her? Another case of unexplainable disappearance?"

"Nope. Well she did leave now and again, but always returned. Moved all the time. New York, San Francisco, Berlin, Rome."

"So where is she now?

"Oh according to records she is dead."

"You luck of concerned for your poor old aunt is disturbing."

"Ha! You'd better pull over for this one."

I stopped the car near some shopping mall and turned to face Gwen.

"Look through this."

Gwen handed me her PDA. The photo album was opened and women looked at me. She had dark blond hair done in low ponytail and clothes that in seventies must have been the latest fashion. The photo wasn't all that good, but even from it I could tell she was beautiful. I thought that we got the same eyes.

"Go on. Look at the rest!"

There must have been dozens of photos, some clearly done by paparazzi and some stylized as paintings. The same women looked from all of them, imprinted memories of life filled with parties, men and money. Something was stirring at the back of my mind and for the life of me I couldn't figure what.

"What do you make of it?"

"Everybody in the family is unfairly good looking? Good plastic surgeon too."

"You would think that. Actually only first three photos are Evelyn Flaumel."

I felt my heart thinking down.

Gwen bent over.

"The oldest one done in the twenties, the latest one just this year. Different names of course. My personal favourite one is Lady Emma Fleetwood, 1811. Painting by **Charles de Steuben****."**

So it wasn't stylization.

Maybe if I didn't know Jack I would have tried to rationalise it somehow: dominant genes, family resemblance. But I did and so I had to admit it was the same woman, unchanged by time itself.

"What about Carl Corey?"

"Well once I knew what I should be looking for… pretty much the same. Only he hid his traces better. But I'm not bad myself. The earliest I could find is portrait by Nicolas Lancret, 1718. He was 35 five for two and a half centuries."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Gwen put computer back into her bag and starred at parking lot crossed with heavy rain. And when did it start?

I didn't know what to say. And anyway it looked like Gwen didn't deal the last card yet.

"Can I have a punch line now and the rest later?"

"Okay," she said. She sounded calm, but then again she much have freaked out before. "Tell me, Ianto, how many chains are in human DNA?"

_Oh! She got to be kidding…_

"Two. That's pretty well known fact."

"Obviously not for Torchwood in general and Doctor Owen Harper in particular. Because we got three and no one ever noticed."

Nothing like rainy afternoon in Cardiff to discover that you have secretly been an alien your whole life. At least I was on a good company.

Tbc…

A/N: the trouble of doing crossover of CoA with… anything really is that anything is in great danger of becoming irrelevant background detail. But I believe I've found a balance. This is partly the reason I'm doing it from Ianto (Torchwood) POV, and not Luke or say Flora (Amber). Also Ianto is kind of protagonist aka narrator here, well him and Gwen but switching perspective every other chapter... I don't think it will work here. Those of you familiar with Amber must have noticed that I tried to make his style close to Corwin and Merlin narrative, but less intricate in style on account of Ianto being in his mid twenties and everything.


End file.
